


Wish You Were Here

by Ursula



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama, Fiction, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-23
Updated: 2005-03-23
Packaged: 2018-11-20 09:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursula/pseuds/Ursula
Summary: Mulder rescued Krycek after getting him out of jail.





	Wish You Were Here

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Wish You Were Here

### Wish You Were Here

#### by Ursula

  


Title: Wish You Were Here 

Author/Pseudonym: Ursula 

Fandom: X-Files 

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek 

Rating: Adult Slash 

Status: Finished 

Date Posted: 

Archive: FHSA, DIB 

E-mail address for feedback: Fan4Richie or 

Classification: Alternate to Canon 

Series/Sequel: Is this story part of a series: Stand Alone for now. Might be a prequel to a case-oriented story. 

Disclaimers: No profit, fan fiction for fun. X-Files belongs to Chris Carter and whomever else holds the right. 

Notes: A present for Bianca, for all she does for X-File Fandom and the Krycek in jail scenes are for Lorelei Many thanks to Laura, Wolfens, for beta! 

Warnings: Slash 

Time Frame: After Ascension with no going back after that to canon 

Wish You Were Here 

* * *

So, so you think you can tell   
Heaven from Hell,   
Blue skies from pain. 

OooOooO 

"I saw him," the cleaning lady said. "The guy who dropped your girl friend off." 

"She isn't my girlfriend," Mulder explained. "She's my partner. We're FBI agents." 

A blank stare resulted. The middle aged lady grunted in a very un-lady like fashion and said, "You got to excuse me. My feet hurt." She pulled off her shoes and sighed, wiggling her toes in her thick men's socks. 

"Why didn't you come forward before?" Mulder said. 

"Oh, well, I was off a couple days," Mrs. Folchen said. "Ankles swelled up. Female trouble, you know." 

Mrs. Folchen, who was a sturdy looking woman in her mid-fifties, let out an embarrassed giggle. "Not that you want to hear about my medical problems and all. Even the doctors here don't want to give me the time of day. You know if you ask me, it's not just the doctors who make this a hospital. Think what kind of diseases there would be if the cleaning crew just didn't show up one day." 

A smug smile crossed Mrs. Folchen's lips as she contemplated this heretical idea. "You wouldn't want your friend in a dirty hospital, would you?" 

"No, I wouldn't," Mulder said. "So you saw the man who dropped off my partner?" 

"I did," Mrs. Folchen said. "I was taking a smoking break behind the dumpster. We're not supposed to smoke there, but it was raining and my ankles were already starting to swell up. I didn't want to walk to the smoking pavilion. It's too far, if you ask me." 

"Uh huh," Mulder said, finding this an exasperating interview. "So about the man...was it a man?" 

"Yes, it sure was," Mrs. Folchen said. "At first, I thought it was her husband or something. He was real sweet with her. Gentle like. I was going to tell him that all he had to do was honk the horn and they would come out and help him, but then I thought about the cigarette and I didn't want a report. You won't put my smoking in your report, will you?" 

"No, Ma'am, that's not necessary," Mulder replied. "So you saw the man. Would you know him if you saw him again." 

"Oh, sure, pretty young man," Mrs. Folchen said. "Black hair, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, green eyes...not that light green, but kind of olive. A pretty mixed up green color anyway. He was built too. He picked that little girl up like she was nothing." 

"Anything else? How tall was he? Was he heavy or thin?" Mulder asked. He had an odd feeling about this, a queasy sense of recognition of the vague description. 

"About as tall as you, but built differently. Not slim like you, bigger in the hips. Nice to look at though," Mrs. Folchen said. "Oh don't look at me that way. I might not be a spring chick anymore, but I still can look." 

That was the scope of the information. It was more than he had, but even more confusing to Mulder. What did this mean? Had Krycek brought Scully back as some ironic gesture or had he been trying to help her? 

Rubbing his forehead, Mulder decided that in either case, Krycek had done him a favor since they had managed to save Scully. It still wouldn't earn him any mercy if Mulder got his hands on his dear old partner.... 

OooOooO 

Can you tell a green field   
From a cold steel rail?   
A smile from a veil?   
Do you think you can tell 

OooOooO 

This was total shit, Krycek thought. There should be a picture of him under the word, asshole, in the dictionary. First, he listened to that weasel, Spender. Quick promotion, recognized your potential immediately, a chance to show what you can to...Too bad they didn't cover Spender's brand of fraud in the academy. 

Alex lay flat on his belly, watching the institution below. It looked like a convent school from the outside, aged brick walls, lots of ivy. Even if you watched for a day or more, it looked sedate and parochial; perhaps a busy private school for rich children with the number of cars that came and went. 

The more Alex knew about the project, the more he understood why it managed to operate so well under the radar. For the most part, it employed disguises like this school places and people that blended into the background. 

Oh, Alex knew the bastards that recruited him were good. They had spotted Alex coming. A word from one of his favorite instructors. Spender's paternal hand on his shoulder and the talk about serving his country sooner than he expected. Alex had fallen. Fallen hard. Step by step, he had been sucked deeper. It all made sense to him until the first time Spender had treated him like a lackey and told him "You have no rights, only orders to carry out." 

Fuck that... 

Spender didn't have Alex's number. That spotless record Alex boasted was not because he lacked imagination. That spotless record was the result of extraordinary luck and cunning...both of which seemed to have gone south for a long winter the day Alex met Fox Mulder. 

That was enough for today, Alex decided. He was cold and hungry, still weary from his long trip here, following the clues by his informant. Tomorrow he would see if the routine was the same. Then he would move in on the third day. He wasn't one hundred percent sure what he was going to do. His informant had given him a picture, a nine year old boy. 

"Get him out," the note had said. "Get him out and whomever else you can bring. This boy will be your living evidence. Bring him to Mulder. Save the boy. Save yourself." 

Save yourself. Go to Mulder. Both sounded good. He felt hope for the first time in months. Getting up from the grass, Alex headed back to the old truck he had picked up cheap. It wasn't much, but he could sleep in the cab-over if he had to do it. He was happy that there was a motel nearby and that he was finally sure he wasn't being followed. A decent bed sounded good and a hot shower was as near heaven as Alex expected to get. 

OooOooO 

Day two had gone much like the first. Alex was tired of lying in damp grass for hours. His mind drifted back to his once and future partner...future when he dreamed at least. Alex knew it wasn't love that he felt for Mulder. He just needed to get it out of his system. One good fuck and it would be just another notch on his belt. So Alex believed. 

The funny thing was that it was the other Mulder who made him turn his coat. It was the Mulder whose passion for his case punched right through Alex's walls. It was the Mulder with that restless undisciplined intelligence who made Alex risk his ass to bring Scully back. It was Alex's former partner. Damn him. 

Sighing, Alex made a few doodles in his notebook. They helped him remember information, but made no sense to anyone else. Alex grinned when he remembered Mulder sneaking a peek at Alex's famous note pad, when he thought his partner was asleep. Alex could have almost had died happy when he remembered the puzzled expression on his partner's face. 

Tomorrow at eight pm, Alex would go in. He chose the time because the security guard who patrolled one length of the fence spent most of his shift talking on his cell phone. Alex didn't know if the guy was talking to his bookie or having hot phone sex, but he spent more time chatting than he did patrolling. Alex would bring out the boy, bring whatever proof he could find, and then...then he would go to Mulder and hoped he lived through the encounter... 

OooOooO 

Oh shit! Alex had finished disabling the alarm on his section of fence and was grappling his way up the brick wall when he heard a distinctly hostile voice yell, "Come down from there!" 

Never one to obey orders without question, Alex decided to take a chance and go over the wall. He could run when he had to. He managed to scale the wall in a different place, but by that time the entire school was surrounded by guards. Two of them caught him and dragged him back toward the gate, beating the hell out of him when he resisted. The biggest goon has just settled into a pattern of rib punches when the cops showed up. 

Lucky. 

At least, it was less unlucky than the game so far. 

Kneeing the guard that was trying to twist his arm over his head and wrap it around a few times, Alex sprinted a few feet toward the cops. 

Even if they got to him in jail, it would be a cleaner death than being condemned to the experimental lab. So much for the kid. Too bad, Wayne. Too bad, Alex... 

The guards were arguing with the police, trying to persuade them that they could handle Alex's break in themselves, save the cops the paperwork. 

Ready to make a break if needed, Alex wriggled away when the cop tried to cuff him. The big, deeply tanned cop with the obsidian eyes jerked Alex back and snapped the cuffs on him. "That uniform doesn't make you a police officer, buddy," the officer said. "He was breaking in; he gets charged with trespassing. Either that, or I'm filing against you for assault. What's it going to be?" 

The beefy guard sullenly said, "Trespass." 

"Were any of the children harmed?" the officer asked. 

"No, he never got much past the wall," the guard said, nervously moving to block the gate. "The kids are all asleep." 

"Even with all those alarms?" the police man in charge asked. 

"Yeah, meds make them sleep through anything," the guard said. 

"Poor kids," the officer said. He tugged on Alex's cuffs and said, "Get moving." 

Once in the car, Alex said, "Didn't that school seem strange to you? When have you seen a private school or even a group home for emotionally disturbed children with that many armed guards?" 

"I haven't..." the officer admitted, "But they're rich kids. Rich people are different." 

"Not that different," Alex said. "I can tell you're a good cop, a thinking one. Go back in there and talk to some of the kids. Ask them how they're being treated. Those children are being abused. I was sent to get one of the kids out. His brother wants him out of there. The boy wasn't disturbed. His family ... his family didn't want him." 

"Mister, if you think you are going to persuade me to go get my ass into hot water, you have another thing coming," the officer said. 

Alex might as well have been talking to a wall. On the plus side, the cops were professional...no beatings, no threats...the younger cop taking notes when Alex spoke. 

A few hours later, Alex warily sat on a bunk in a large cell. He had established his right to a lower bunk in the corner by fighting a large man with multiple piercings, all gaping open now as his trinkets were in an envelope in property. Now, he sat waiting. He knew enough about the project to know his time was running out. Soon they would send someone here to take care of him, just another jail homicide or suicide. He would be a statistic...no more interesting than the DOT figures he had once recited to Mulder. 

Alex rubbed at his scalp. It had stopped stinging and moved onto itching. He was reasonably sure he was allergic to the lice spray they had sprayed over him. His pubic hair itched too, but he wasn't scratching down there in this company. Stretching his long legs out on the bunk, he decided to take a nap. His best chance to get some rest was now. He had persuaded his cellmates to leave him alone and it was early for the Project to get someone in here to try to kill him. 

OooOooO 

Breakfast was shit-poor, but Alex ate it anyway...after trading his tray for that of a prisoner he had taken a dislike to. It was just cold cereal and a soggy slice of toast, but Alex ate it. Later, he would have to be more inventive about what he would eat. The Project wouldn't quibble about poisoning an entire jail full of inmates if that was the only way they could get to Alex. 

Alex's trading partner looked fine a few hours later so he had probably worried for nothing. He wondered when he would be arraigned...wondered what was happening at the school. He hated being here, a sitting duck and helpless to do anything about what was probably happening at the school. He hoped that they were moving the kids...not cleaning up by the means he had heard about from other employees of the project. They spoke of experimental victims shoved into rail cars and gassed, buried in caves, burned alive. For this, Alex had sold out his partner, his profession, himself. 

One of Alex's teachers had once told him that he was intelligent, but was constantly going to have problems until he accepted that he couldn't get around all of the rules. Alex wasn't sure what the guy meant. Alex was never caught disobeying the rules and wasn't that good enough? It wasn't that Alex did anything all that bad. It was only the rules that he thought were stupid that he went around. 

Now was a fine time to get it. It wasn't about the quickest route to whatever he wanted. It wasn't about not getting caught. It was about understanding the difference between right and wrong. It was about doing the right thing even when Alex saw an easier way. 

If Alex had another chance, he would have gladly taken it. Maybe he would have never had the spectacular career that he dreamed about. Maybe he would have never met Mulder, which would have grieved him, but, at least he wouldn't have thrown his life away. 

OooOooO 

Incredible! The cops had just informed Alex that he wouldn't be arraigned until Monday as no one had shown up to press charges yet. No one seemed interested when Alex pointed out that he had a right to be arraigned within forty eight hours and that, if no one had pressed charges, he should be free to go. The sheriff said that he shouldn't worry...he could still be held as a material witness...for his own safety. 

Bastard! 

After learning that, Alex was marched off to take a shower. His mind kept running some of the comments he had heard Mulder make to perps in their brief time together. That boy must be watching bad porn for all his prison rape fantasies. 

The shower was appreciated even if the water was slow and barely lukewarm. Maybe the rest of that pesticide would rinse from his hair and skin. 

As Alex finished, he heard a commotion from just outside the shower room. He had a nasty suspicion that it wasn't a coincidence that the brawl was happening now. 

Ah fuck. The two goons moving toward him might as well be humming the theme from Jaws. It pissed Alex off that his former boss was this disrespectful of him, sending these Neanderthals after him. 

"Aren't your knuckles sore?" Alex said. 

"What?" said the bigger caveman. 

"From dragging them on the floor," Alex said. 

"You fucking with me, punk?" the man asked. 

"Not without a condom and a few drinks," Alex replied, watching the dim spark of thought travel around the man's gray matter until it reached the little reptile brain that the man really used. 

Lunge. 

Alex evaded gracefully, sucker punching the man in the kidneys as he stepped aside. He caught the other fool by his arm and sent him crashing into the first man. Before they could untangle themselves, Alex swiftly stomped down on some outstretched fingers, ignoring the sickening crunch and the scream that followed. In fact, he followed the man before he could scuttle away and slammed his knee into the man's chin. One down. 

The smaller man had a few more skills. He sent an upper cut to Alex's face, slamming him sideways into a shower fixture. While Alex was still dazed, he went for Alex's middle, knocking the air out of him. Alex finally managed to hook the guy's ankle, helped by the wet and slippery floor. 

The jailors came back as the riot in the corridor died down. 

Two of the jailors threw Alex down on the floor, right into a puddle of soap scum and foul water. One of them put a foot on his spine as the other handcuffed him. 

They walked him nude to another cell, this one solitary. It took them fifteen minutes to remember to bring him some coveralls. 

Alex repeated his story three times to various jail personnel. None of them believed him and the sheriff told him he would be facing additional charges on Monday. Great. That was just wonderful. Of course, Alex told himself to look at the bright side. He wouldn't serve all that jail time. The next attempt to assassinate him would probably be more professional and succeed. 

Oh joy... 

Alex spent the rest of the morning, wondering if Mulder was somewhere, reading about his arrest and jacking off to fantasies of a shower scene vastly different than Alex's successful self-defense in there. 

'Ah, Mulder...you wouldn't need porn if I was there' Alex thought. 

Watching the door, Alex ignored his aching ribs. He accepted that he would most likely be killed in this jail, but he wouldn't die alone. The next attempt on his life would be met with lethal levels of defense. 

OooOooO 

"Mulder" 

Skinner's voice sounded irate. A couple spins back of his mental wheels and Mulder realized that it wasn't the first time that his boss had spoken his name. It wasn't his fault. Mulder had been concentrating on a case open in his old unit. He wasn't officially on the case, but someone had asked him if he had any ideas. His attention was held in a horrific way as the case involved a series of children's bodies abandoned in public places. The odd thing was that none of the children could be identified. Because the bodies were found in several states with similar characteristics, needle marks, signs of prolonged inactivity, and medical procedures, they were linked together and a case had been opened. Mulder had an uneasy feeling that the case was closely related to the X-Files and had been wondering how he might get Skinner to assign him to the team. 

Skinner said, "Mulder, I have a 302 for you. You're going to Kalama, Washington." 

At Mulder's blank look, Skinner added, "It's not far from the Mount Saint Helens...the volcano. Good fly fishing." 

"What kind of case?" Mulder said. 

Tapping the screen, Skinner said, "This one. I agreed to loan you to violent crimes. They asked for you." 

"I transferred from there," Mulder said. 

"If you object, there are ample transcripts that need to be transcribed," Skinner said. 

"I'll go," Mulder said. 

"Go pack," Skinner replied. "I'm having the case file couriered to your apartment. Take your time. Take an extra day or two when you've finished. The fishing is very good on the river." 

"I'll take that under advisement," Mulder said. 

Skinner seemed to waiting for him to leave so Mulder closed the file he had been reading and replaced it in his file drawer. His boss seemed anxious for him to leave...Mulder knew he was a thorn in Skinner's side, but he had never seen Skinner this glad to be rid of him. 

"What about Agent Scully?" Mulder asked. "This is a case where a pathologist with her background could be very helpful." 

"Leave Scully out of it," Skinner said. "You won't need her." 

That was final as it came down. Mulder shrugged on his jacket and picked up his briefcase. Despite his irritation about being loaned back to VCU, he had to admit he had been about ready to ask Skinner if he could consult on the case anyway. Although why Skinner thought the particular case near Kalama Oregon needed his presence in the field was beyond Mulder. Assistant Directors could be strange beings. 

OooOooO 

The courier was waiting for Mulder when he arrived. He had expected one of the official couriers on staff, but instead Kim Cook sat demurely on the top step, drinking a latte. "He thought you would be here ten minutes ago," she said. 

"I'm so sorry, Kim," Mulder said. "Traffic was a bitch. Since when do you work as a courier?" 

"Oh, it seemed like a good chance to have an extra coffee break," Kim said. "Besides, AD Skinner wanted it be with someone he could really trust and who else is there but me?" 

"He needed his personal secretary to assure the safety of a 302? He thinks other agents are that desperate for work?" Mulder said, his voice hitting that preadolescent boy degree of roughness he couldn't always control. 

"This case?" Skinner's personal assistant said. "No, but Mr. Skinner so dislikes all the gossip around the building, all those prying eyes and cameras. Have a nice trip, Agent Mulder." 

Walking back towards her cab, Kim turned to wave prettily and cheerfully. Mulder found himself waving back before he could stop myself. He worried about himself. If he didn't watch himself, he would be writing perky sayings in power point and bringing doughnuts to staff meetings. 

OooOooO 

The first thing in the packet was a plane ticket that featured bookings into increasing smaller commuter flights. Mulder hated those small planes. He never felt safe in them and the seats always cramped his legs to the point that he felt crippled by the time they landed. Noting the gate time, Mulder broke open the sealed file and looked inside. 

Now Mulder understood. He wasn't going to Kalama, Washington to ask questions about the pathetic corpse of a seven year old child that was found on a park bench. He was going to Kalama because his ex-partner was being held in the local jail under a false name. Mulder had never withdrawn the bulletin requesting all information on Krycek be forwarded to him, but other than that report from the hospital cleaning lady, there had been none. 

What was AD Skinner thinking? Mulder knew that there was more to Skinner than met the eye, but, hell, this was incredible. Skinner had included Krycek's old ID, a letter explaining that Krycek had been undercover, and Skinner's private number if they needed to talk to him. 

For one soul-shattering moment, Mulder believed it and, incredibly, his heart gave a leap as if Krycek being undercover was a good thing. Then Mulder saw Skinner's note that said, "This is the best way I know to get Krycek out of that jail and to have the records destroyed. Get him back here via a rental car. Keep away from public transportation and do not use any law enforcement agencies for assistance. I have an old friend that we can trust. I'll set up a safe house through him if you can persuade Krycek to cooperate. Do not communicate with Scully or your gunmen. Talk to no one about this, including myself. When you get back here, Contact me from a safe location on my private phone. Skinner" 

Skinner was a deeply paranoid man, Mulder decided, impressed with his boss. The idea was brilliant, probably no more legal than some of Mulder's scams too, which pleased the hell out of Mulder. 

Thoughts racing through his head, Mulder grabbed a clean suit, a pair of jeans, one of his more presentable sweaters... not yet splattered with unidentifiable goo, and the old sweat pants he used as sleep wear. 

Skinner had included a credit card that was neither a bureau card nor his own. There was a considerable amount of cash too. Skinner's friend was well heeled. A post it on the credit card said in Skinner's handwriting, "Credit card has a very high limit. Use with discretion." 

Mulder grinned at the credit card. Just think of what fun Marty...the name Mulder used for his hidden porno habit ...could have had with that thing... 

Oh, well, Marty would not enjoy a visit from whatever friendly black ops agents were connected to this card.... Mulder put it in his wallet and finished packing. 

To his usual first aid kit and Codeine 3...he always seemed to have an unexpired prescription in his medicine cabinet, Mulder added a roll of duct tape. That might be the only way he could stand Krycek's smart mouth for the trip back...but silence wasn't what Mulder wanted from him. Not really. Krycek was the key, Mulder knew that to the deepest level of his being. The faade of youth and prettiness hid information and, hopefully, explanations... 

Why had they sent Krycek? Why him and not another agent? Why had Krycek betrayed him...no, that wasn't right. Why did the acts of a double agent feel so personal to Mulder? 

Had it been Krycek who returned Scully? Had he been following orders? If not, why had he disobeyed? 

Who was Krycek working for now? 

Mulder shut his suitcase. He felt better than he had since the X-Files were first closed. Krycek's deceitful nature might lead to the truth. 

OooOooO 

And did they get you to trade   
Your heroes for ghosts?   
Hot ashes for trees?   
Hot air for a cool breeze?   
Cold comfort for change?   
And did you exchange   
A walk on part in the war   
For a lead role in a cage? 

OooOooO 

"He's an FBI agent?" the sheriff said, sounding doubtful. He fanned out the documents Skinner had provided on his desk. "That's bad news." 

Sheriff Sloane was tall, lean, tanned dark with a face that was well-marked with worry lines. He was taller than Mulder. He didn't look comfortable behind the desk or in the suit he wore. He stood up, coming around the desk, and sitting on the edge of it. 

"Why?" Mulder asked. 

"Because he's been yelling that we should investigate the place he was trying to break into since we arrested him," the sheriff said. 

"Did you check it out?" Mulder said. 

"No, why should we? I mean, why should we have taking the word of some crazy acting guy in a black leather coat? That school had been there for twenty years. Never had a problem with it. Not so much as a runaway kid!" Sheriff Sloane said. 

"I think we should go have a look," Mulder said. 

"Don't you want your buddy out first?" Sloane asked. 

Crap. 

Mulder said, "Yeah, but hurry it up. If Krycek thought that the school should be investigated, it should have been." 

"I'll have someone fetch your man's belongings," Sheriff Sloane said. 

After the sheriff called the jailors to have Krycek released and property to have Krycek's things brought into the room, he turned back to Mulder and said, "What does the FBI think has been going on at the school?" 

"Wasn't there a child's body found recently near here?" Mulder said. 

"You're saying that has something to do with that school?" Sloane said. 

Mulder shrugged and said, "Krycek thought so." 

"I have a friend who is a judge," Sloane said. "You better have something though. I try not to use too many favors up. By the way, your buddy was attacked in general. He took care of himself pretty well. Put both men in the infirmary." 

"Really?" Mulder said, impressed despite himself. 

"I guess we know why now," Sloane said. "It's my opinion that it was damn stupid to send a kid like that in, no ID, no nothing. Why didn't he tell us who he was once he was arrested?" 

"Following instructions," Mulder said. 

"I don't have any dirty cops," Sloane said. "Whatever you hear about small town cops...we're not dirty and I make sure every officer I have goes to training at least once a year." 

"I didn't say anything about your police force," Mulder said. "I said Agent Krycek had orders." 

Sloane walked out of the room back to his private office to call his friend as they brought Krycek in. They quickly removed the handcuffs and left Krycek alone in the room with Mulder. 

Mulder felt his hand shake a little as he kept himself from forming a fist. He said, "Agent Krycek, AD Skinner gave me permission to discuss your presence here with Sheriff Sloane." 

Lifting a brow, Krycek opened and shut his mouth then nodded. "Good, I was wondering if I was going to do time." 

Biting a comment back, Mulder glanced at the door, wondering if he had time for one punch before Sloane returned. It looked as if someone had been there before him... sloppy seconds, more or less,...bruise and cut over Krycek's left eyebrow and a lovely green turning to brown patch of color decorated the same eye. Moving closer to Krycek, Mulder said, "Why did you let them take her?" 

Eyes darted away from him...toward the door. 

"We're going to check out your school, Krycek," Mulder said, not sure how he knew that would forestall any escape attempt. 

"Probably too late," Krycek said, but he looked eager. 

"What did you expect to find?" 

"Not here," Krycek said, his voice breathy and low, causing Mulder to lean in towards him. 

"Why not?" Mulder asked, remembering to step back. 

"We can talk about it in the car," Krycek said as one of the jail employees brought in a bag. 

"Please inspect your belongings," the woman said. "You'll have to sign for them. Sheriff Sloan will bring your weapons separately." 

Mulder watched Krycek take out, one pair of knit boxers, black, a pair of jeans, black, and a sweater also black. His socks and boots were black as well along with the worn leather jacket. Mulder picked up a bag with Krycek's pocket contents. Krycek had a driver's license with the name Daniel Hires on it. It was Krycek's picture, but Mulder doubted that anything else on the license was valid. He was surprised the cops were giving it back... 

Half a candy bar, carefully wrapped. A receipt for a leather cleaning specialty service...it was probably for the jacket, but Mulder could always hope it was some of that kinky stuff that Marty liked to view 

A pen and a small notebook with nothing in it but doodles... Agent Krycek had always been whipping out his notepad when they had been playing partners and Mulder had once looked inside, finding nothing but doodles He had always wanted to know about that. Maybe he would finally find out. 

Krycek had a substantial amount of cash and a credit card with no name on it, much like the one that Mulder now had. Who was Krycek working for now? 

Or maybe Krycek was self-financed by the look of that neat little kit of lock-picking tools... 

"We'll have the search order by the time we get there," Sheriff Sloane said. "Agent Krycek? Are you planning on wearing our orange coveralls out the door?" 

"No," Krycek said. He looked at Mulder and Sloane, lifted his brows and scrunched his nose before unzipping the coveralls. 

The bruises on Krycek's body were spectacular, a shimmering rainbow that ranged from deep purple to fading yellow. It was almost artistic, Mulder thought. 

"That's not all from the attempted assault yesterday," Sloane said. 

"The security guards at Saint Philomena School weren't gentle souls," Krycek said. 

"It's odd that they didn't come to make their statements," Sloane mused. 

Mulder's eyes met Krycek's in a rare moment of understanding before Krycek pulled on his underwear and jeans. Armored his leather jacket, Krycek followed Mulder out the door to his rental car. 

Once safely away from Sloane's ears, Mulder asked, "What about this school?" 

"St. Philomena's,' Krycek said. "On the surface, it's a private group home for the mentally ill children of wealthy families...only if outsiders apply, there's never an opening." 

"It's a front?" Mulder asked. "For?" 

"For whom do you think?" Krycek said in the voice of a tired adult to a difficult child. 

"I don't know what I'm supposed to think," Mulder said. "Who brought Scully back?" 

"You know who did," Krycek said. 

"Why? Just following orders?" Mulder said. "Was that why you took her too?" 

"I didn't take her as you well know," Krycek replied, a little exasperated whine coloring his words. "Yeah, I could have told you the plan and ended up like your last informant. Dead." 

"Don't pout. You could still end up dead," Mulder snapped back. 

"Bullshit, Mulder," Krycek said. "And tell me...now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?" 

"Safe house," Mulder said. "Skinner has one. He believes that we can keep you alive." 

Krycek shook his head and then leaned back into the car seat. "We may not even get out of Oregon." 

OooOooO 

The school boasted an endless brick fence, ivy covered in places, but Mulder suspected that there was a lot of technology concealed beneath the weathered brick. The sheriff spent long useless moments trying to raise someone on the intercom. 

"Shit," Krycek said. "Shit, shit, shit. The birds have flown" 

Mulder said, "And that's how it feels." 

Another sulky look. 

The sheriff stood back as one of his officers pulled a 'jaws of life' out of the trunk to use on the chain that held the gate together. 

"Wait," Krycek said. "It was electrified." 

"No problem with this model," Sloane said. "It's non conductive." 

A moment later, Mulder uttered an appreciative 'wow' as sparks flew through the air. Inside the fence, an alarm sounded, but no one responded. 

"They're gone," Krycek said. 

"We'll go have a look anyway," Mulder decided. He grabbed Krycek by the arm in what he hoped appeared a buddy like manner. His former partner shook off his hand, but showed no inclination to run away. In fact, he pushed in front of Mulder to walk through the gate. Waving Krycek inside, Mulder said, "Be my guest." 

The school was silent. The main building looked as if it was older, perhaps a converted convent. Framing it were a number of other buildings, including a handful of cottages. The quaint appearance of the cottages was offset by the bars crosshatching the windows. 

Mulder veered off toward one of the cottages as the sheriff headed for the main building. 

"You good with that lock picking kit?" Mulder asked. 

"Damn good," Krycek said, taking it out. Mulder watched his ex-partner pick the lock, keeping an eye out for interfering deputies. 

The cottage was unoccupied, but it had been deserted at haste. There was still bedding on the bunks and there was doll beneath one bed. Mulder picked it up, using a pen. "Bleak place for a kid to be." 

"I've seen worse," Krycek said. 

"Where Scully was?" Mulder asked. 

"That was bad," Krycek said, "There's worse." 

Leaning against one of the bunk beds, Mulder said, "Was that why you brought her back? You finally felt compassion?" 

"I brought her back to fuck them over," Krycek said. "She was supposed to have died. They didn't really stop watching her until they thought she gave up and stopped fighting. I told her she had to play dead...make them think she was a goner. I wasn't sure if she heard me and went along with it or if that was finally the end of her strength. 

Stepping aside, Krycek avoided Mulder's fist. "She is alive, Mulder. I gave you that." 

After he caught his balance, Mulder said, "Yeah, okay, but if you want to stay alive, you better be prepared to give me more. I want everything." 

"So what's new?" Krycek said. 

Mulder said, "Come on, Krycek, you do have FBI training, don't you? Help me search this place." 

"Scored higher than you on several tests," Krycek said. 

"Yeah? For example?" Mulder snarled as he opened drawers in a line of dressers. 

"Pointed above you in teamwork," Krycek said in a muffled voice since he was examining the underside of a bunk. "I scored higher than your best score even the day I went on the range with a high fever." 

"Team work and shooting," Mulder said. "How did you do on that pesky ethics test?" 

"I did fine," Krycek replied, his voice going softer. Softer yet, Krycek added, "Answering the questions right doesn't mean that I live by some kind of code." 

"Yeah, somehow I guessed that," Mulder replied. 

"Mulder..." Krycek said, "something here." 

Before Krycek could move whatever it was, Mulder crossed the room and rolled under the bunk, jamming Krycek between his body and the wall. For a moment, Mulder was distracted from his quest by the intense feeling of warmth along the left side of his body then Krycek laughed softly. 

"I would have moved, you know," Krycek said. 

"This is more fun," Mulder replied, playing with Krycek's mind. "You don't think this is cozy? I thought you were a team player, Alex, my boy?" 

"You trying to find out what team I'm playing for?" Krycek replied. 

By that time, Mulder wasn't playing attention to Krycek. His attention was focused on a plastic bag wedged between the frame of the bunk bed and the thin mattress. He was already gloved and carefully extricated the evidence. 

"Looks like pictures, a little notebook..." Mulder said. "Come on. Unless you like hiding under beds?" 

Still gloved, Mulder opened the zip lock bag. "Hey, Krycek, who developed the Ziploc bag?" 

"Glad Corporation, 1964," Krycek said, sitting beside Mulder on the bunk. 

"The guy who developed it should be the patron saint of law enforcement agents," Mulder said. 

"And drug dealers," Krycek added with a brief cautious look at Mulder. 

"Yeah, that's a point," Mulder said, extricating a picture. He frowned at it, trying to keep it from stabbing him in the heart. 

At least, the child in the picture was a boy. He stood between a couple, one knee of his jeans torn out, sneaker untied, hair in every direction, big gap toothed grin aimed at the man in the picture. 

"God," Mulder said. He opened the small notebook. "Wayne Henderson, age nine." 

"Dear Mom and Dad, 

I wasn't very sick today. I got to go to school. Ha, ha. Now I like school. I 'm trying to be good. Not running away. If I'm good, can I come home? 

Wayne" 

"Poor kid," Krycek said. "That's the one I was sent to get out. Why I don't know..." 

"Could it have been his parents who hired you?" Mulder asked. 

"I don't know," Krycek replied. "Somehow I don't think so, but I've never met the person who had been providing the money for me to chase these kids around the country. It could be anyone." 

Krycek said, "It's not just the money, Mulder. I wanted to fuck Spender over like he did me. I wanted to make them pay." 

"What were you after here, Krycek?" Mulder said. "What did you hope to find that you thought would piss off your former boss?" 

"The kids," Krycek said. "Living ones. Dead ones, but mostly the ones that could still...like Scully, give evidence." 

"Scully doesn't remember anything," Mulder replied. 

"Nothing?" Krycek said, sounding frustrated. "Well, these kids would have remembered a lot and their bodies would be evidence." 

"Of what?" Mulder asked. 

"Human experimentation," Krycek said. "Contact with extraterrestrials. Conspiracy. Murder." 

"Why didn't you just contact me? Give me the evidence. I could have opened a case," Mulder said. 

"Because I know about Ramsey," Krycek replied. "Your Deep Throat... and I'm devoted to survival even if I have a taste for revenge." 

"Like you have to tell me that," Mulder said. He flipped through the notebook. There were other pages with notes, a few scraps of paper still clinging to the metal spirals. Mulder said, "There are pages missing. I wonder if he mailed some letters?" 

"Wouldn't matter if he did," Krycek said. "They would be intercepted or even if his parents received them, most of them know." 

"Know that their kids are being experimented upon?" Mulder asked. 

"Yeah," Krycek said. "They know." 

"My sister..." Mulder started. 

Krycek blinked, looked away quickly, and then shrugged. "Most of them know. Doesn't mean that all of them know..." 

Ah, shit, now his enemies were lying to protect his feelings. 

"Come on, let's finish searching," Mulder said. "Stay right with me." 

"No problem," Krycek replied. 

OooOooO 

The school didn't yield many secrets, but there was enough for Sheriff Sloane to feel that the school was not a legitimate group home. 

"I'm going to have those ashes in the incinerator sifted," Sloane said. "See what they were burning. I was a fireman for a while. I quit because I hated the smell of burning bodies and that's what I'm smelling here." 

Wincing, Mulder said, "Thanks, Sheriff, I don't meet many men as conscientious as you." 

"You must be hanging out with the wrong people," Sloane said with a grin. 

Glancing at Krycek, Mulder replied, "You may have a point." 

"You two should stay in town," Sloane said. "I'm going to need some help here. I have a feeling I'm in over my head. There's a good hotel down the road. Decent price and the restaurant attached to it is a good one." 

"Sounds good," Mulder said, becoming aware of how tired he was. 

"Just Inn," Sheriff Sloan said. "Never mind the pun. Guy who owns it used to be a news paper reporter. It's his idea of a joke." 

"As long as we don't have to listen to his war stories," Mulder said, "it doesn't matter to me." 

OooOooO 

"Mulder, I'm going to need some clothes," Krycek said. 

After listening to Krycek whine all the way back to the car, first because Mulder had put the handcuffs back on him and then because Krycek wanted to change his clothes, Mulder had agreed to go see if Krycek's car was still parked where he left it in a parking area along the river. Of course, it wasn't. The car wasn't impounded either...Sloane checked on that for Mulder. 

"You're not wearing my clothes," Mulder said. 

"They wouldn't fit," Krycek said. "I have money. There's a store down the road." 

"It's a waste of time," Mulder said. "How far is the park where the child was found?" 

"About five miles down," Krycek said. "There 's a small sign, easy to miss. It's to your right." 

"Why do you think the body was dumped in a park where it would be found?" Mulder asked. 

"I don't know. I find it difficult to think when I'm wearing handcuffs," Krycek replied, rattling his chain at Mulder. 

"Don't tempt me to see how well you can think with my hands around your throat," Mulder remarked. 

"What is your problem, Mulder?" Krycek said. "You make a habit of choking people you're questioning?" 

"I make an exception for people who try to hurt my partner," Mulder said. 

"How about for guys who bring her back to you?" Krycek said. 

"Shut the fuck up," Mulder said. 

Krycek wised up and obeyed. They drove the next fifteen minutes in silence until Mulder was forced to admit that he had missed the turn to the state park. 

"You told me to shut up," Krycek pointed out. 

"Yeah, now I'm telling you to give me better directions," Mulder said. 

"Well, first we have to get back to the main road," Krycek said. 

Mulder thought he had retraced his route, but when he took what he thought was the first turn he had made, they were suddenly crossing a small bridge that he didn't remember. 

"There's someone following us," Krycek said. 

"Are you sure?" Mulder asked, glancing at the rear view mirror. 

"Yeah, because we've gone down the same road to nowhere twice before you took that last turn onto the bridge and the car was behind on both times," Krycek said. Craning his head to see, he added, "Mulder, toss me the keys to these handcuffs." 

"So you can bail out on me? No, thanks," Mulder said. 

"Asshole," Alex said. His voice rising in pitch, Alex said, "Mulder, they're getting closer." 

Right at that point, Mulder realized that a car was coming from the opposite direction. He thought there was a chance he could cross the bridge before he was blocked between the two vehicles. 

And then the car was flying through the air as if it had suddenly gained the power of flight. 

Next, there was a horrific sound, metal crunching, wood splintering. They had crashed through the old rails of the bridge. They were going in the river... 

OooOooO 

He couldn't remember how he was thrown free of the car. He couldn't for the moment remember being in a car. He was moving instinctively, hours of his life spent swimming serving him despite his semiconscious state. He swam toward the surface, holding his breath as his powerful legs and arms drove him back to the surface...to air. 

Air...gasping as he drew in the sweet oxygen into his lungs...a deep breath, sweeter than any drink or food, more necessary. 

A shot hit the water by his head and Mulder dove deep. In that fleeting moment of vision, water running into his eyes, he had seen the location of the bridge pilings. He swam toward the darkness beneath the water. 

Mulder was safe for the moment, concealed by the shadows of the pylons of the bridge. His breathing was ragged as he waited to be discovered. He fumbled for his gun and found it was lost from its holster. He could see the fender of the car slowly sinking beneath the water and all he could think about was that Krycek was cuffed. Krycek was chained to the door and Krycek was his responsibility. 

Shouts came from above and then wonder of wonders the sound of a horn honking. Mulder heard the squeal of wheels screeching away. He had a few moments to get to Krycek. 

Fumbling in his pocket, Mulder made sure he still had the handcuff key. Yes, there it was. He lowered himself back in the water, swimming back toward the bubbles that marked where the car had just finished sinking. The right side had sunk last. There could have been a pocket of air, could still be. Krycek might be fine except for a bad scare. 

The door had slammed shut after Mulder had been thrown free...at least, Mulder hoped he had been thrown free. His vaunted memory could not recall the moment when the vehicle hit the water or immediately after. He couldn't remember how he exited the car and ended in the water, swimming. He wouldn't have left his prisoner helpless. Not that. 

It was hard to get the door open, but, look...Alex's face was pressed upwards into a small pocket of air, his free hand, white knuckled into the upholstery to hold him there. 

Mulder wished he could reassure Alex, tell him he would get him out, that it would be all right. He fumbled with the key, almost dropped it. No matter how good he was at holding his breath, this was terrible. His intellect warred with his instinct, to gasp, to seek oxygen where there was none. 

Ah shit...Mulder had red spikes pounding through his eyes from the inside out. He had to get some air or he was going to drown himself. He found himself pushing back toward the door until he saw Alex's eyes...frightened eyes, betrayed eyes...panicked eyes. 

The car shifted when Mulder moved. 

Oh God oh god oh god... 

Fighting the blind animal panic, Mulder fumbled for the cuff. Alex's hand gripped his. Mulder fought it off. The pocket of air was gone with the shift of the car. Alex had managed to shut his mouth, but his eyes bulged and his lips quivered. He must have inhaled some water already and he was struggling not to cough. 

Fighting off Alex's flailing limbs, Mulder grabbed Alex's wrist, holding it tightly as he found the keyhole. Turn it. God damn it. Turn! 

All the while, Mulder's heart was hammering. His blood was thundering in his ears. His lungs burned. He wanted to breathe. He couldn't breathe. He had to gasp... 

OooOooO 

The car was flying. Alex felt his wrist wrenched one way and the other, flesh straining to the point where he feared it would give way. One second of frozen time...Mulder was reaching to unbuckle his own seat belt, succeeded, and fumbling in his pocket. Alex knew that Mulder was thinking about him, trusted that he was reaching for the handcuff key... 

Now the car spun as it hit the water. Mulder's hand flew away from Alex' and Mulder was being sucked from the car...expression nearly comical in its shock. Mulder was gone. The car was on its side in the water, Alex's side upright. He freed himself from his seatbelt, but he was still imprisoned by the handcuff fastened to the door. 

Alex screamed in terror as the car shuddered, settling in the water. Water splashed into his open mouth and Alex shut his lips, clawing his way upward to the pocket of air near the roof of the car. Air...he wheezed and gasped. Air...for how long? 

He must hold still. He must not struggle. Alex knew Mulder would come back for him. Worst enemy and all, Mulder would not leave him to drown... 

In Mulder, we trust... 

If Mulder lived... 

Every time the car moved, the pocket of air grew smaller. It hurt to stretch toward his salvation. Alex fought the handcuff. His hand and wrist were wet. Shouldn't he be able to squeeze free of it? Fuck. He knew his wrist was cut and bleeding, but he couldn't feel it. The car rocked; Alex lost his grip for a moment, pulled under. He barely managed to close his mouth in time. He fought his way up, craned his head at an unnatural level to reach the small salvation of that air pocket. The water still lapped at his chin, threatened to slosh over his face. 

Mulder? Mulder, please... 

OooOooO 

He could do it. He had to do it. Mulder held Alex's wrist still, staring into the panicked eyes of his ex-partner, willing him to hold still. Alex stopped fighting for a moment and the handcuff fell away from his wrist. Mulder grabbed Alex's elbow and pulled him toward the door. Something caught for a moment, but Mulder tugged and it came loose. As they kicked free of the car, it rocked again, sinking the rest of the way, the downdraft trying to suck them deeper. 

Now, now, now, Mulder held onto and restrained Alex with one arm and paddled with the other, whipping his legs out from his hips in rapid flexed motion. At first, Alex helped, paddling upward, but then Mulder felt Alex jerk away from him. What? Mulder had no time to look. It took all of his discipline, all of his humanity to keep a grip on Alex's arm when all he wanted was to break the surface of the water and reach air. 

Oxygen...sweet...sweet...sweet...Mulder drew in deep breaths. He flipped onto his back, pulling Alex with him. He could hear now as the rush of water left his ears. Alex was wheezing; coughing so hard he was gagging. He was nearly purple with the struggle. He was still drowning, drowning like a fish caught in a net, unable to pull air into his lungs. 

Mulder wrestled Alex into position to help him to shore. He would have cursed if he had any energy to spare. Alex continued to struggle, flailing his legs and clawing at Mulder's restraining hand. 

"Stop it," Mulder yelled. "Stop it. Listen to me, Alex. Stop fighting me or we'll both die because I won't let you go. I won't ever let you go." 

Alex continued to cough, but he stopped fighting, going limp either because he passed out or because Mulder's words had reached him through his panic. 

He was so heavy...Alex felt like lead as Mulder dragged him onto the river bank. Mulder collapsed over him for a moment, wishing he could just rest. He hurt all over and it seemed unfair to him that continued effort was needed. 

All right, Mulder had been a lifeguard. He knew that he couldn't just rest on his laurels. He flipped Alex to his side, arm stretched over his head...Alex's wrist was bleeding, but that wasn't the immediate problem. Alex had stopped wheezing and coughing. The color in his face was fading to blue. Mulder knew what had happened. Laryngospasm...the muscles of his larynx had shut down when he inhaled water. Mulder knew that he shouldn't try CPR or to perform the Heimlich maneuver. Breathing should start when Alex passed out and the spasm relaxed. If it didn't...well, then Mulder would have to try more drastic measures. 

Alex's hand lashed out, grabbing Mulder's leg and holding on tight. A moment later, the grip eased and then went slack. Mulder heard Alex draw a breath after that and another. He coughed some more, spewing froth from his mouth and nose, not a pretty sight. Mulder heard sirens. Thank God. That should keep the bad guys away for a while at least. 

Alex coughed some more, moved his hand up to wipe his mouth then grimaced. Mulder helped him up into a kneeling position. 

"Keep coughing," Mulder advised, falling back on remembered first aid procedures. 

Still hacking, Alex fought for breath. He wasted some of his wind to say, "Thanks...for...the...advice...Mulder..." 

Gasping, Alex's body was wracked with pain. He heaved again, this time managing to vomit stomach contents. 

That was dangerous. Alex could inhale the detritus, causing pneumonia. He was already at risk for that. 

"Calm down, Alex, come on, you'll be fine," Mulder said. 

"Don't feel fine," Alex said. 

The dark complexioned deputy peered down at them. Mulder hadn't heard his name. He said, "You two seem to have be magnets for trouble. I got a call about some men shooting off a bridge. You what they were shooting at?" 

"Yes," Mulder said. "They drove us off the bridge. I was thrown clear. Alex was...trapped in the car until I dove in and freed him." 

"I'll get an ambulance," the deputy said. 

"No," Mulder said. "No, my p...partner needs to see a doctor, but I can't have anything over the emergency band. Let them think we're dead. Is there a private doctor or clinic around here that we could use?" 

Before the deputy could object, Mulder pulled out his soggy ID and showed it. "FBI business." 

"Drowning can kill you hours after you're pulled out of the water," the deputy said. 

"Shooting can kill you quicker," Mulder said, shivering. 

"Okay," the deputy said. "Get in the back. I'll get you a blanket. There's just the one though." 

"We'll share," Mulder said. 

"I'll turn the heat up too," the deputy said. 

"You should get those wet clothes off as soon as possible," the deputy said. 

"Yeah," Mulder said, thinking about his suitcase in the trunk...at the bottom of the river." 

"Listen, leave that car where it is for now," Mulder said. 

"You can talk to the sheriff about that," the deputy said, tossing Mulder a mobile phone. 

OooOooO 

Sloane was creative. Mulder liked his plan better than just leaving the car where it was. "I know these old boys who can screw up any job you give them," Sloane advised. "By the time, those guys got your car out of the water, the bad guys should have either been caught or left the area. I'm calling in some extra help...my part time officers and a couple guys that retired over the past couple of years. We'll make it hot for them...you don't want to let me know who these people are?" 

"I don't know," Mulder said. "I wish I knew." 

Alex went into another coughing spasm. Maybe it was hard to swallow all those lies... 

OooOooO 

"Your friend should be in the hospital," the doctor said. 

"The x-rays show that?" Mulder asked. 

"No, the x-rays don't show much at all," Doctor Alvarez said. He scribbled something down on a prescription pad and gave it to Mulder. "He can take that for the wheezing. Keep those abrasions on the wrist clean... I've prescribed something for pain and an antibiotic to stave off pneumonia. " 

Alvarez glanced toward the deputy, who was now identified as Deputy Mark Johns. "If the deputy didn't swear that there were other explanations, I'd be handing Mr. Benham literature on domestic violence." 

Krycek managed to wheeze and laugh at nearly the same time. "Not a problem, doctor," he said. He stared at his wrist and glanced Mulder's way, uttering a husky, "Kinky bastard." 

Mulder's face felt hot. He glared at Krycek, but there was nothing he could do about Alex's teasing in front of Johns and Alvarez. On the other hand, if Alex felt good enough to piss him off, that was probably a good sign. 

Alex had another sneezing, wheezing attack as he was dressing in the Wal-Mart special jeans and shirt that Johns had bought him while he was being examined. Mulder would have made some pointed remark, but he was already dressed in his own Wal-Mart clothing. 

Giving Alex a fistful of tissue, Mulder steadied him so he wouldn't fall over during the spasm. 

"Thanks, Mulder," Alex gasped out when the coughing spell eased. 

"Take his temperature every few hours and if that coughing gets worse, get him into the hospital," Doctor Alvarez instructed. 

"I will," Mulder said. "Come on, Alex." 

Plopping back into the seat of Deputy Johns' car, Alex said, "I want hot chocolate, a long hot shower, and a long, long rest in a warm bed." 

"I think that can be arranged," Mulder said. "Our best bet for now is to stay low and play dead." 

"As long as it's just playing dead," Alex said. 

"The Fishing Hole will do you fine," Johns said. "Good comfortable place to stay when you don't want to rough it on a fishing trip. Food's great too, but you can also cook in the kitchenettes." 

Mulder wasn't sure how great any motel could be that boasted cooking facilities, but he would have been able to sleep on a bed of nails about now. As for Alex, five minutes into the ride and the man was asleep, drooling on Mulder's shoulder. Mulder looked at him, but did nothing. He was too damned tired. 

OooOooO 

Stopping Alex from heading directly for the bed, Mulder said, "You wanted a shower, remember? Deputy Johns is going to pick up a few groceries as well as your prescriptions, including your hot chocolate." 

"I suppose," Alex said. He walked toward the TV and switched it on. 

"What happened to the shower?" Mulder asked. 

"Doesn't sound as good to me on second thought," Alex said. "All that water..." 

Near drowning was one of the most likely traumatic events to cause serious phobia to set in. Hydrophobia in the non-rabid meaning. Mulder said, "It's hot water, Alex. It will feel good. Leave the door to the bathroom open. I'll hear you if something happens." 

"Don't mock me, Mulder," Alex said. 

"I'm not. What you're feeling is normal. You nearly drowned. It's okay to be shook up," Mulder said. 

"Maybe a shower would feel good," Alex said. "Help me put a plastic bag over these bandages?" 

The deep cuts from the handcuffs were covered in a clean white bandage. Mulder found an extra liner for the bathroom wastebasket and used that and some of the adhesive tape to secure a waterproof cover for the improvised arrangement. "There, try to keep it out of the water, okay?" 

"I will," Alex said. "I...Mulder, any chance you would be willing to come into the bathroom with me? It's not so much the water...it's being alone in the water. When I was down there, I tried to keep believing you would come back, but it was hard. Then I started to wonder if you had been killed..." 

Mulder could see the tremor start in Alex's hands and the moisture in his eyes. He felt compassion and he accepted it. Alex had betrayed him, helped to conceal what happened to Scully, but he had also brought her back. Mulder let go of some of his rage and let his empathy replace it. It was a good feeling. 

"Alex, I shouldn't have handcuffed you," Mulder said, "You were cooperating." 

"It's okay," Alex said. "It's procedure." 

That made Mulder feel sad. It was Agent Krycek speaking from the grave of this outlaw version of himself. 

Krycek seemed to hear it too as he smiled wistfully and said, "Yeah, I really went to academy. I really was a FBI agent, Mulder." 

"I could wash your back," Mulder said, giving Alex a deliberately lecherous smile. 

"Let's save that for the second date," Alex said. "Just sit on the john and talk to me." 

"Okay," Mulder said. 

Somehow watching Alex undress was different. His partner hadn't seemed particularly modest or bold when they shared a hotel room. Mulder had looked when Alex had forgotten his sleep wear in the room and walked out of the bathroom to get his pajamas. Alex didn't seem to notice that he was being checked out and Mulder stopped right there, appreciating the scenery without wanting to buy a piece of it. Maybe that was why it hurt so much for Alex to betray him and leave. Maybe it was the leaving that caused the most pain... 

OooOooO 

Funny, Alex had always loved showers. He hated it when he had to stay in places with low water pressure and barely warm water. Now, he could barely stand a drizzle over his body. He fought terror as he tried to wash as quickly as he could. Oh god damn it...he was shaking so badly his legs started to go out... 

"Mulder?" Alex said. 

"I'm right here," Mulder said. 

"Maybe it would be a good idea for you to get in here," Alex said, leaning against the wall as he shut the water off. 

"Okay," Mulder said. 

Alex could hear the slide of cloth; something hit the bathroom floor as it fell, then the rustle of the shower curtain. He kept his eyes closed as Mulder's hand touched him briefly and reassuringly. 

"I usually have the water turned on when I shower," Mulder said. 

"Shut up, Mulder," Alex managed to say. 

Mulder turned the water back on, adjusting it to an almost stinging spray and setting the controls to the heat that Alex also preferred. 

Without being asked, Mulder took Alex's washcloth from his hand and soaped it. "I've always believed in the theory of taking something you're afraid of and pairing it with something more pleasurable. What do you think?" 

"That I'll either start to like showers again or I might end up afraid of wash cloths?" Alex said. 

The cloth slid over Alex's aching body swiftly. Mulder laughed softly. "Maybe something more fun than just being washed?" 

"I like being washed," Alex said. "I always thought it was one of my favorite things to do with ...someone I wanted to have sex with." 

"A lover?" Mulder said as he couched to wash Alex's legs. 

Alex opened his eyes and turned to gaze at Mulder squatting there...not on his knees but so close to it that Alex's cock jerked as if seeking Mulder's mouth. Mulder raised a lather, forgetting the washcloth to use his hands, his naked flesh against Alex's. 

At first, Mulder's presence was a barrier against the memories evoked by the water...the wetness oppressing Alex, making him want to escape the loathsome feeling, to get out of the shower and away from the threat. 

Now as Mulder explored every inch of Alex with bold fingers, Alex forgot to be afraid. It wasn't the same. It wasn't cold. He wasn't trapped. Mulder held him close and, oh, as Mulder's hand encircled his cock, he certainly wasn't alone. 

OooOooO 

It was moving too fast...Mulder could have kept it simple. Alex was afraid and he was comforting, but there was no pleasure in that. It was not as if he was touching a stranger. It felt weirdly right. They had been going there. 

The way his partner looked at him. The way Mulder looked back. 

The way Alex had touched him, hand lingering softly on Mulder's arm or shoulder. And close...Alex had always stood so close. 

Mulder could have moved away when his partner's warm side pressed against his as they worked. He hadn't. Mulder didn't want to lose that connection. Then Alex had ripped it from him. Taken his trust. Taken all the could-have-beens... 

Second chances...Mulder's father used to say that you never got any. Mulder's father was full of bullshit like that. 

Mulder embraced Alex from behind, his hand reaching for Alex's erection. He felt Alex exhale as he touched him. Alex arched back against him as Mulder stroked him. Mulder's erection pressed against Alex's ass, nestled between the soft cheeks. 

"I want to get out of the shower," Alex said. 

"Why?" Mulder asked. As much as Mulder was meeting his needs, he really wanted to make Alex come in here, make that the association that he remembered with showering. 

"Because I want you to fuck me and I don't want to slip and fall," Alex said. 

"Why, Alex, I think that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me," Mulder answered, turning off the water. 

Three working arms and one plastic enclosed and too sore to move...it should have made short work of drying two men. It didn't. Not when it was more compelling to kiss clean damp skin...to mark that lovely hollow beneath Alex's throat and the tender flesh behind his ear...a nip there and his growling, groaning response. Dropped the towel again...who cares... 

No lube. No condoms. There was hand lotion on the counter; that would have to work to ease the way and trust would have to substitute for a condom. Oh, Mulder had forgotten. Deputy Johns was coming back with groceries and prescriptions. That was probably him pounding on the door. Damn. Damn. Damn. 

"Go to bed and wait for me," Mulder said to Alex, who was starting to laugh at his frantic efforts to dress. When Mulder grabbed his pants and jerked them on, he caught his hard cock painfully. Double fuck! 

Stumbling to the door, Mulder yelled, "Wait a minute. I was in the shower." 

Deputy Johns replied, "No problem. I'll leave these bags at the door and go back for the rest." 

Cautiously, Mulder peered through a barely opened door and saw that it was Johns and that several bags were heaped near the threshold. 

Picking them up, Mulder left the door open and made his way into the kitchenette, dumping the bags on the counter. Before he could venture out barefooted, Deputy Johns said, "No problem. Stay there. Here's the rest." Bulging muscular arms were laden with bags. He walked into the kitchen, glanced at the bed cover concealed heap and said, "Your partner asleep now?" 

"Yeah," Mulder lied. 

"I'll just leave these and go then," Johns said. "Should be everything you need and then some. Wet money spends fine if you had any questions about that." He grinned, showing large white teeth. "Later then. Sheriff Sloane has a car driving by here every half hour. Told the guys that there was some kids drag racing through here that he wants to catch so if we do have a leak...that's what they call it when you have someone giving out information right? Anyway, they won't have anything to tell, that way. Sheriff Sloane is smart man." 

"He is," Mulder said. 

"I'll be going then," Johns said. He glanced at Mulder's crotch nervously. "So you can finish that shower..." 

Time to dig a hole and pull it shut over his head... 

OooOooO 

Great. 

Mulder gently peeled back the blanket that partially covered Alex's face to see Alex's cheek wrinkled against the pillow, slightly open lips inhaling and exhaling in the slow rhythm of sleep, and eyelashes fluttering faintly as if he was dreaming. 

Mulder groaned softly. His erection should have subsided with the interruption but it had a mind of its own. He might have to take Deputy Johns' suggestion and go back to the shower... 

A soft chuckle emerged from the bed... 

Alex said, "Mulder, you are so damn easy...you think I fell asleep with someone at the door?" 

Lovely. Alex could have phrased that differently such as that he couldn't sleep waiting for Mulder's touch. The man had no romance. Grinning despite his irritation, Mulder murmured, "Paranoia, they destroy ya..." 

"Not where I live," Alex said. "Get in this bed and fuck me now." 

Mulder could have explained that he had only shoved a few things in the refrigerator and there could be a disaster if Johns had purchased ice cream for them... 

Who cared? 

Alex was better than ice cream. Still, he deserved something for that tease. Mulder landed a solid spank on Alex's inviting ass. 

"Hey, what's that for?" Alex asked, rubbing his offended flesh. 

"Thought you might still be sleepy," Mulder answered. 

"I'm awake," Alex said. "Come here." 

Mulder gladly followed Alex's downward tug, pulling Alex over into his arms. Alex's leg went over Mulder's thigh as if it belonged there. The damn plastic bag was still on his right arm. Grumbling, Mulder worked the tape loose and tossed it aside. "There, now you're naked. I have you in my power." 

"So what's new?" Alex said. 

It was better not to consider what he meant by that. Better yet to smother his words, his lies with a kiss. Another kiss. Alex's mouth was meant to be kissed. Mulder pulled back a moment to catch his breath and look at Alex's glowing eyes, his ravished mouth, the rosy hue of arousal blushing down his face to his chest. 

"Was that my kiss of life?" Alex asked. 

"Call it that," Mulder said. He reached for Alex again, but Alex turned, moving to his left side and lifting his leg. 

"Do it to me, Mulder," Alex said, his voice rough, low, and eager. 

Reaching for the lotion, Mulder warmed it in his hands before stroking it inside of Alex. He stopped to kiss the back of Alex's neck then continued, holding back from the urge to skip any further preparation and push in, taking Alex roughly. He didn't want to mess this up. He had wanted this. Wanted this for so long. 

OooOooO 

He could have skipped all the finger fucking. Alex had his mouth open to urge Mulder ahead. He could take it and he had always imagined it would be rougher, had fantasized about Mulder taking him hard, punishing him for everything he had done to betray him. When Mulder kissed him, Alex lost the urge to tease him into the fast, brutal fucking, he had thought was the only possibility between them. Mulder was making love to him, kissing his way down Alex's back, biting him gently, sucking at his flesh as if he wanted to take Alex inside him. 

Oh, but now it was too slow. Alex wanted Mulder inside him. Wanted Mulder's hand moving on his cock, urging him to come. "Now, Mulder, now..." 

The burn of Mulder's cock pushing into him slowed Alex for a moment, but then the friction inside and Mulder's hand working his erection rescued his arousal. He didn't know why he wanted it this way...but it was good. It was what he needed as if he had never existed except to have Mulder moving on him, inside him, around him...the excitement of giving himself in this way. 

They were both groaning. Mulder forgot to pump Alex for long minutes as he held on, thrusting as deep as this position would allow. Alex reached for his erection, forgetting the pain from his sprained wrist. His grunt of pain reminded Mulder to take back over, working him hard, responding to Alex's sounds and movements to urge him to the edge... 

To the edge and over...burst of pleasure, sparks behind his eyes for the second time this day...don't think of that. 

Alex missed the moment when Mulder came. It was after him, he was sure, but he had been coming down from the bliss of his release when Mulder came. They lay together for a moment before Mulder carefully withdrew, kissed his neck again, and whispered, "Thank you." 

Alex merely made a dismissive sound. Now he was exhausted...aware of how tired he was and, damn it, he was coughing again. 

OooOooO 

Listening to Alex go into a wheezing fit, Mulder felt a stab of guilt. He was sure that hot, prolonged sex was not on Doctor Alvarez's rest and recovery prescription....prescriptions! Alex needed to take his. 

Mulder went into the bathroom and washed quickly. Since Alex made no move to join him, Mulder warmed a washcloth to clean up ...his lover...his sex partner...his Alex? This was complicated. Making love to Alex hadn't been a safe choice in any sense of the word, but Mulder wouldn't have traded it for the world. 

"Alex, do you want me to clean you up?" Mulder asked. 

"Yeah, sure," Alex said. "Mulder, there's a convenience store down the road. You should get some condoms for the next time." 

Ah...well that was good. Alex wanted more. Mulder sponged Alex clean and then said, "Do you still want hot chocolate? You have prescriptions to take too." 

"Yeah," Alex said, wheezing again. "Shit...I can't..." 

The rest was buried in a flurry of wheezes and hacking coughs. Mulder rubbed Alex's back and offered tissues. 

"I love looking horrible for the guy who just fucked me," Alex complained when he caught his breath. 

"You're beautiful," Mulder said, although Alex's eyes and nose were red from all that coughing and sneezing. 

"Hot chocolate is good for coughing," Alex said. "Did he get some real chocolate bars to melt into it?" 

"Let me see," Mulder said. He disposed of the washcloth and went to poke through the sacks. "Yes, there's chocolate. I'll start the cocoa now." 

The kitchenette boasted a few cheap and battered pots and pans. It didn't go with the luxurious ambience, but Mulder supposed that it was the result of more expensive cookware disappearing. He found a saucepan and turned the burner on low to melt the chocolate bar. Johns had purchased a ready made chocolate mix. Mulder would add that and milk later. 

"Alex, you know that milk is mucous producing? Maybe this isn't a good idea, no matter how much you like chocolate," Mulder said. 

"Chocolate stops you from coughing," Alex replied from the bed. "Really." 

"That wasn't in the book on DOT statistics," Mulder said. 

"I read other things..." Alex said. "Once in a while." 

Strange, Mulder could always imagine himself fucking Krycek, but like him? That was bizarre yet he found that he was comfortable with Alex...the way they had started to be after the initial show of chest-beating. 

Reading the directions, Mulder placed all the different pills in his hand and filled a glass with water. He sat on the bed, offering the pills and the water. He brushed back Alex's hair. It felt soft. It was still damp from both the shower and the sweat of lovemaking. "I like it this long," Mulder said. 

"Thanks," Alex said. "Seemed no reason to keep it regulation." 

Mulder went back over to check on the chocolate. It had melted so he stirred milk into the mix and added cocoa mix. 

"Alex, what do you want to do next? I mean, after we leave here? The safe house idea...I don't think we should risk that" 

"There isn't a safe place in the world for me," Alex said. He put the glass down on the bed table. "Not for any of us, Mulder. It goes deep and wide, this conspiracy." 

"What is about?" Mulder asked. "What do the aliens have to do with it?" 

"Aliens...they persuaded me you were nuts, talking about little green men," Alex said. "I didn't know what to make of you once I knew you, but I knew you weren't crazy. I realized they were lying to me, but I thought...my career would be down the tubes if I took a stand and, I knew they would kill me. Maybe decide you were too dangerous to live if you won over a second partner..." 

"Well, now we are in this together," Mulder replied. "Can you contact your informant? You're sure that the guy leaving the bodies where they will be found isn't the same one who hired you?" 

"No, because body disposal is left to grunts, disposable men," Alex said. "The guy who sent me has money and power." 

"How did you hook up?" Mulder said. 

"After I dropped Scully at the hospital, I ran," Alex said. He stopped as a brief wheezing fit hit. Catching his breath, Alex said, "I went to a friend's apartment, someone I thought no one knew about. My buddy picked up the phone and it was someone asking for me. It was an older man's voice. He said that they were coming for me. Get out. Tell my buddy to take a long trip. It took a lot of persuasion to get Diesel to run, but I did it. He took off." 

"You have buddies named Diesel?" Mulder said. 

"I have one buddy named Diesel," Alex said. "It's his professional name. Worked in a band." 

"Oh," Mulder said, trying to imagine Alex with some long haired hard rocker. 

"The guy gave me a phone number and said I could work for him, work to bring Spender down if I wanted to do it," Alex said. "I held off calling a long time, but I knew that as long as the project exists, as long as Spender lived, I would never be safe. They never let you go. A grave is your only retirement plan...if even then." 

If even then? Now what did Alex mean by that? Mulder put it aside for another day. He said, "Why would this guy tell you to bring the boy to me? And who is Spender?" 

"Spender is that guy who smokes in Skinner's office," Alex said. "Spender had your informant killed. And I was to bring the boy and the information to you because you're the key. You're the key to a lot of this shit, but you don't know it yet. I don't know how you're the key either so don't ask." 

"All I know is that I kick and they react," Mulder said, "But it doesn't make me feel important. It's more like a flea biting an elephant, a large reaction to a small annoyance." 

"Well, then you must have one hell of a bite, flea," Alex replied. "Is the chocolate done? I'm exhausted. I want to have my chocolate and get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow. Try to figure it out." 

Alex fell asleep in Mulder's arms, chocolate mustache around his mouth. Mulder couldn't sleep right away. He slept poorly anyway and he wasn't used to sleeping with another person. 

Moving the puzzle pieces around in his mind, Mulder couldn't make a picture yet, but he knew one thing, Alex was part of it. It was time to work together. 

And that was a good thing. Mulder was sure of that. 

OooOooO 

Mulder was gone when Alex woke up, but the bed was still warm. Alex saw a note on the table...'Gone in search of condoms. Back soon.' 

A glass of water and his prescriptions were beside the note. Damn, it had been a long time since anyone took care of Alex...the last time was... 

Yeah, it was Mulder again, talking to him in that near monotone, telling him over and over that it was okay. That Alex made the right decision to shoot Cole. Alex had felt something melting inside him then. He had thought about going to Mulder and telling him what he knew...but he didn't know enough. He wanted to go to Mulder and give him his truth on a platter. Instead, Alex was sucked deeper and deeper. He was glad he ran. He was glad that he decided to take Scully out of there alive. He didn't want to think how his life would have gone if he had walked away from that decision. 

Life with Mulder might be short, but Alex felt it was the right thing to do. Fuck the future. He would take what he could get...a few days, a few weeks, whatever the fates would grant him as long as it was at Mulder's side. 

OooOooO 

Alex had finished his shower by the time Mulder returned. "Did you know that they had lube at Wal-mart?" 

"The thought never entered my head," Alex said. 

"Well, they do," Mulder said, spitting a sunflower seed shell into the trash. "Lots of lubes and a big selection of condoms." 

"How did you get there?" Alex asked. 

"Oh, I was going to take your suggestion and see if that gas station store had condoms when Johns pulled up. He was checking on us and, he had some information. Apparently, the men who were following us and drove us off the bridge came back to the site. Sloane had men watching and they pursued them. The guys jumped into the wrong lane of the highway and were hit by a truck. All four men killed. No ID and lots of guns. Paper's passing it off as drug dealers," Mulder said. 

"Our Sheriff Sloane had an interesting phone call last night," Mulder said. "Did you know we died in our car?" 

"Oh, shit," Alex said. "I'm sorry. Let me call my informant. He can get this straightened out. Say the news was wrong. That only I was killed so you can have your life back." 

Mulder smiled. "No thanks," he said. "This might be the best way. Safer for Scully and for Skinner. You think your boss has the budget for two employees?" 

"I'll call him and see," Alex said. 

Mulder restrained Alex with a firm grip on his left wrist. "What's the hurry? We have all the time in the world now. Dead men shouldn't have to be on the clock." 

"Mulder, you don't understand," Alex said, but he didn't struggle to get away, not with Mulder staring into his eyes. 

"There are things happening," Alex said. 

Mulder leaned closer, his hand came up to caress Alex's freshly shaven cheek. "Yeah, things happening here too." 

"Not what I meant," Alex said, making one last try. 

"Even Superman needed a break now and then," Mulder said. 

Mulder's hand was under his shirt, exploring his chest until it crept behind to pull Alex close. 

Duty could call later. Right now... 

"How many condoms did you buy?" Alex said, glancing toward the two plastic bags. 

"Couple of boxes," Mulder said. 

"That should last us a week or so," Alex said. "Be good for the mission really. Let them get careless and lazy...." 

Alex's shirt was going over his head. "Yeah, lazy," Mulder said as the shirt hit the floor. 

"Mmm, lazy...I'm crazy about you, Alex," Mulder said. 

Clothes were falling in all directions. Mulder was tugging him toward the bed. Mulder had a point. There was nothing they could do right now but wait for more information. If Alex's boss wanted to reach him, he would have done so. There was time. They would make time. Make love. Live in a world composed of only one man...one love... 

Mulder... 

OooOooO 

"You're sure this was the right move?" Wilson Mayhew-Mannerly asked. 

The young woman with the large nose said, "Yes. My calculations, my profile, if you will, tells me that the two of them are our best bet for changing the timetable in our favor. They can keep Spender and the rest of those fools occupied while we take care of our enemies." 

"You are a dangerous woman, Samantha Mulder," Mannerly said. "Quite like your father." 

"My father only thinks he has the answers. He may have raised me to believe in his lies, but I'm a Mulder too...my brother and I are alike. We seek the truth...only I have an advantage. Spender gave me the benefits of knowing nearly everything. He expects that, in the end, I will bring him everything, including my brother as his heir. He's wrong. He made a mistake when he took me," Samantha said. "I was the ruthless one, the one willing to cheat to win. And now I have a cause a lot more important than a game of Stratego." 

Mannerly poured another cup of tea after offering some to Samantha. This young woman was quite fierce, not a lady at all. She made him nervous. He wondered somewhat if Spender's mistake was telling her that her brother was the real heir? If Spender had embraced her, seen past her gender... 

Best not to think of that... 

"When shall I contact them?" Mannerly asked. 

"Give them a week or so," Samantha said. "Let them bond and work out their differences. The two of them together...well, I have my weapon." 

Samantha laughed, a carefree sound. "Besides, it's the sisterly thing to do. Too bad I can't be there to tease big brother about being in love." 

Mannerly nodded and picked up the phone. It was another move in the game, but not the only move for this fierce young woman and himself. 

It was really quite...exhilarating. 

The End (TBC?)   
  

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Ursula


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